


he comes anyway (the slutty!Colin remix)

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Remix, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-06
Updated: 2010-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin has been around the block a few times - and he's happy, though he's never really loved. Then again, he's never met anyone quite like Bradley James before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he comes anyway (the slutty!Colin remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyesofapanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesofapanda/gifts).
  * Inspired by [despite his right-hand problem (he comes anyway)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1600) by vivitchi. 



♦

His own nipples were quite responsive – more so than most men’s, Colin thought – and they certainly hadn’t been neglected over the years. But then again, no one had ever done anything like this for him, either.

Bradley is leaning over him, licking and sucking and nibbling and chewing on Colin’s nipples – first his right, and then his left, before at last shifting back again just as the left one is starting to get painfully sensitive. Colin glances down to see the flesh reddened, swollen hard, and then he gazes for a while at Bradley patiently working away at Colin’s pleasure, apparently perfectly content and off in a world of his own. At last Colin drops his head back with a groan, and gives up the last of his resistance, his scepticism, his confusion.

Meanwhile, Bradley simply doesn’t let up. The sheer relentlessness of it was doing all the work for him. Such a plain and simple act, not sophisticated at all. Yet it had Colin hazed out with gratification, as horny as he’d ever been. And that was claiming something pretty bold. ‘You could do that – all night,’ Colin eventually manages to stutter out, both wanting it and knowing it was impossible.

Bradley hums agreement, which vibrates through the tender flesh and increases the pitch of the pleasure, until Colin completely zones out.

At last Bradley fucks him – Colin had made it clear from the first that he loved that, that he’d always welcome Bradley in – and Colin lies there heavy and hot in Bradley’s arms, liquid with pleasure, while Bradley fucks steadily into him, lowering his head every now and then to rasp the flat of his tongue across one nipple or the other. It hardly takes anything at all, of course, once Bradley is finally ready – he just wraps his hand around Colin’s cock, and tugs at it once, twice, thrice – and Colin comes, the pleasure rising through him, drowning him, leaving him helplessly adrift in its wake. And then Bradley is coming too, ramming in hard at the last, and Colin is _revelling_ in it, _adoring_ it. ‘So – damned – good – James.’

‘I know,’ says Bradley smugly. Though he isn’t fooling anyone any more.

♦

 _Colin Morgan had thought he’d done it all before he met Bradley James, he’d assumed he’d left no sexual stone unturned. He’d been such a good boy until he moved to Glasgow. Well, not good exactly, but there’d been some kind of natural restraint within him that had made it easy to just go so far – a kiss, a cuddle, a fleeting daring caress – and then walk away to stretch out alone in his own bed and silently wank, curl up alone afterwards, almost liking the poignancy as much as the pleasure. Almost. Once the Irish Sea divided him from home, though, he suddenly decided he’d waited long enough. And he certainly made up for lost time._

 _He’d never been seriously in love, so had never felt obliged to concentrate only on one person for more than a few wonderful hours at a time. He’d often been enthusiastically in like, though – indeed, he’d frequently been exhilaratingly in lust – and he’d been lucky enough that most of his objects of desire had been happy to respond in kind for a while. Juggling commitments was easy when almost everyone was a past, present or possible fuck–buddy. They liked it that way too, and they understood._

 _The whole drama school environment, and then the theatrical world in London, seemed to naturally create a sense of experimentation, fluidity, exploring the infinite facets of identity. It was clear to him that he should try everything at least once, because nothing was impossible, and how else would he know? It might be his kink, after all, no matter how strange it appeared from the outside looking in. The list of things he’d tried by now wasn’t even worth trying to compile, and most of them he’d enjoyed, some of them were true reflections of his own self, some of them went so deep that he knew they were part of his soul. Other things… other things, maybe he wouldn’t actively seek a second time. But then again, there wasn’t anything he would ever completely rule out, if he was with the right person._

 _The right person._

♦

Colin is in Bradley’s bed again, in Bradley’s hotel room, spread naked and fucking himself down onto Bradley’s fingers, moaning the man’s name. He couldn’t stay quiet, despite Bradley hushing him and getting quaintly embarrassed. Colin had had enough of quiet during those lonely years back home. _‘Bradley…’_

Bradley is thrusting within him, determined, relentless again. Adding another finger, and then _twisting_ … Colin gasps, and even Bradley is so far gone now that he doesn’t hush him any more. ‘You are a sight to behold, Morgan,’ he says admiringly.

Colin moans his name again, making it a plea, wanting more, _more_.

But even though Bradley is jamming hard into him, filling him full, Bradley won’t be rushed. He’s setting the pace. He’s deciding what to do when. ‘I want to make you come from just this,’ Bradley murmurs. ‘Want to make you come with just my fingers.’

Impossible, that was impossible. Nevertheless, Colin hears himself moan abject agreement. He simply _belonged_ to Bradley during these moments, these hours of unbearable pleasure. His flesh and his bones belonged to Bradley, and the rest of him followed. He jams himself down onto Bradley’s fingers again, frantically thinking, _How? How…?_ Asking his body, searching for the places where the frisson, the friction might do the trick and trigger something Colin had only ever associated with his cock.

‘Don’t touch yourself,’ Bradley warns him as Colin’s hand creeps across – even though Bradley himself is helplessly starting to wank, looking almost as needy as Colin feels. Bradley shoves his fingers in deeper on his next thrust, making Colin cry out. ‘I want you to come like this.’

And they up the pace, each driving the other on, and Colin lets the pleasure expand warm and unfocussed, opens himself up further, arching his back, moving _with_ Bradley, flowing _with_ the heat of it, letting the pleasure grow to encompass his cock and balls and everything else down there, until he feels he’s glowing with it.

Bradley is muttering to himself, needy and frustrated and had he mentioned _needy_ , and somehow the fellow–feeling rebounds to double Colin’s own reactions. He moans Bradley’s name again, helpless, wanting the impossible, wanting to be helped. ‘I’m close,’ he says. _Make this happen,_ he begs Bradley, he begs himself.

Bradley grins, and then he’s doing things inside Colin that should just be impossible, stroking at him from the inside out, and Colin is shaking with it, trembling, and he tautens his thighs, shuts his eyes tight, offers up some filthy kind of unholy prayer, and Bradley is praying too with that beautiful voice of his, ‘Come on, come for me, Col, want to see you come from me touching you like this.’

And he is, he is, he’s coming, it’s impossible, but the pleasure tears through him, and above him Bradley swears and shudders as he comes too.

♦

 _The right person._

 _Bradley James was the wrong person entirely._

 _Bradley James was, on the surface at least, the perfect fuck–buddy. Beautiful or handsome or pretty or sexy, depending on the light and the attitude and the time of day – sometimes all four of those things at once. Cheerful and obliging, outgoing and easygoing. Eager to be friends, and apparently just as attracted to Colin as Colin was to him, though he never quite said as much. It just seemed to be understood. Colin almost pounced immediately. But somehow, somewhere, a harsh warning bell rang._

 _At first Colin put that down to Bradley being too vanilla. And then he decided that Bradley was also too sincere. It didn’t take him long to realise that Bradley’s heart was so undefended that actually he wasn’t the sort to be a fuck–buddy at all. Though he would try, if Colin asked him. Of course he would try. And while Colin wasn’t so vain as to think that he’d break Bradley’s heart when they were done, there would be hurt and there might even be scarring that would never quite heal. Colin didn’t want any of that._

 _So Colin put his energies into befriending this rather unexpected companion, and working with him, and letting Bradley’s unassuming flirting drift happily past._

 _Until one day – or rather, one evening – two years later, when Bradley finally insisted. And Colin Morgan found himself in Bradley James’ bed._

♦

This time Bradley was concentrating on Colin’s balls. Colin sprawls there in abandon, while Bradley lies between his spread thighs, head bent as he diligently works away, licking and sucking and rolling each ball in turn on his tongue, his fingers fondling and massaging, his breath occasionally puffing warm across Colin’s straining cock, making him shiver.

‘Where did you –’ Colin says after a while. ‘Where did you – learn to do this?’

Bradley makes an enquiring noise, which Colin interprets as, _Do what? Suck on your balls?_

‘No, I mean – the way you concentrate – on one thing – forever – drive me mad with it.’

 _Oh, that,_ is the response. A shrug conveys, _Dunno._ Bradley continues for a while, but then lifts his head while his fingers continue to tug and ripple at Colin’s balls. ‘Guess you inspire me, Morgan.’

‘Good,’ Colin gasps. ‘That’s good. Don’t stop.’ He groans. It feels like they’ve been doing this for an hour already. ‘Have to stop soon,’ he says reluctantly. ‘Gettin’ a bit tender.’

Bradley doesn’t let up. ‘Come for me. Come like this.’

‘With just my…’ _Impossible._

‘Yes,’ says Bradley firmly. And he bends his head again, takes one ball into his mouth while his fingers continue to toy with the other. _Come on, Col._

‘I don’t think that I –’

 _Try._

And Colin moans a surrender. It isn’t possible, of course, but then Bradley widens his mouth to take both balls in at once, and sucks at them, caressing them with his tongue, prodding them with the tip before rasping across them with the flat – and he cheats a little, for Colin’s sake, slipping his fingers up behind his balls to wriggle the tips against where Colin’s cock grounds within him. It is almost too stupendous to be recognisable as pleasure.

‘Impossible,’ Colin murmurs. ‘Impossible.’ But he comes anyway, shaking with the extremity of it. He comes anyway, spunk splattering across his belly – and even though this had all been his idea in the first place, Bradley gazes up at him awestruck.

♦

 _Until one day when Colin Morgan discovered that he had a new kink – a kink for the impossibilities that became possible when pursued with patient persistent generosity. A kink that only Bradley James could ever fill. And that was when he finally realised he was already seriously in love. Jubilantly in love._

 _There was a first time for everything._

♦


End file.
